Kaguya's "success" was like a powerful stimulant injected into Nagato's nearly collapsing belief system.
"I wasn't wrong… My path wasn't wrong…"
He murmured the words repeatedly, the light within his Rinnegan growing ever brighter.
"Power… I need greater power! Power enough to make the entire world listen to 'pain'!"
"This time, I will not fail!"
—
Above, within the Heavenly Curtain, time flowed calmly beneath a façade of near perfection.
Under Kaguya Ōtsutsuki's absolute rule and her iron law forbidding war, the world entered an era of unprecedented "prosperity" and "peace."
Cities were rebuilt.
Fields were cultivated once more.
Trade routes flowed freely.
The fear and hunger that once haunted civilians' faces were replaced by calm—and even genuine smiles.
Markets bustled.
Children played in open streets.
During festivals, people bowed devoutly before statues of the Rabbit Goddess, thanking her for abundant harvests and tranquil days.
It was almost a classical Golden Age—sheltered beneath divine protection.
—
Hagoromo and Hamura, the brothers who carried Kaguya's blood and hopes, grew up in such an environment.
Their status was exalted, revered by the entire world—not merely because they were "sons of the goddess."
From a young age, they displayed wisdom and power far beyond ordinary humans—gifts of the Ōtsutsuki bloodline.
When Kaguya watched her sons mature, a faint softness occasionally flickered in her pale eyes.
She personally instructed them in knowledge.
She guided them in sensing and shaping their chakra.
One day, she hoped, Hagoromo and Hamura would become her true allies—able to stand beside her against the threat looming in the stars.
Everything appeared to be moving in a favorable direction.
Only Kaguya herself, in unguarded moments or in the silence of the night, would instinctively lift her gaze toward the vast, boundless sky.
When she did, the calm majesty of the "goddess" would fade.
In its place lingered a deep, unshakable anxiety.
—
As Hagoromo and Hamura grew, the people's admiration remained heartfelt.
They were gentle. Wise. Powerful.
Yet over time, something subtle began to ferment within certain hearts.
Envy.
At first, it was harmless—admiration tinged with longing.
Envy of their noble birth.
Envy of their innate strength.
Envy of being personally taught by a divine being.
But human hearts are like deep waters—currents unseen.
When envy accumulates day after day—especially within those who already sit at the top of worldly power, yet feel fragile before true strength—that envy begins to change.
—
The Heavenly Curtain shifted to a secret, lavish chamber.
Several daimyō, dressed in fine robes and radiating authority, gathered ostensibly to discuss governance and trade.
But as wine flowed, the conversation drifted—inevitably—toward the existence that stood above them all.
"The Goddess's power truly is unfathomable," an older daimyō sighed, reverence and quiet helplessness mingling in his voice. "With her presence, no one dares wage war. We are free to enjoy prosperity."
"Indeed," another replied, swirling his wine. "But even more astonishing are the young Lords Hagoromo and Hamura. Such bearing and power at such a young age… As expected of divine blood."
The atmosphere thickened.
Envy practically overflowed.
"More than bearing and strength," a sharp-eyed daimyō lowered his voice. "Have you not noticed? The Goddess appears to be passing her power to them without reservation. That… is what truly matters."
Silence fell.
Then, a younger daimyō—quiet until now, ambition flickering in his eyes—spoke with measured calm:
"Why… should we not possess that kind of power?"
A wine cup slipped from someone's hand, spilling onto the ornate carpet.
No one looked down.
All eyes locked onto the speaker.
The chamber fell deathly silent.
The initial shock—instinctive fear—lingered only a moment.
Then something hotter, darker ignited within their gazes.
Greed.
For longevity?
For unshakable authority?
For liberation from being ruled by fate?
Or simply… for the power of gods?
No one said it aloud.
They didn't need to.
—
Across the shinobi world, viewers felt a cold stab as they watched the greed flare in those daimyō's eyes.
"Bastards! Kaguya just ended the wars so they could sit comfortably on their thrones—and now they're coveting her power? Ungrateful wolves!"
"Exactly! Greedy and shameless!"
Many civilians and lower-ranking shinobi reacted with outrage, seeing things from the perspective of ordinary people who had finally found stability.
But others—those more sensitive to the currents of history—felt something darker stir.
"Wait… If they start coveting divine power… could this be what changes everything?"
"You mean… their greed leads to the world's transformation?"
"No conclusions yet. But I'm certain of one thing—those who bare their fangs before absolute power rarely meet good ends."
—
Meanwhile—
Within the moon's interior, inside the vast sealing space—
The real Kaguya Ōtsutsuki floated in silence.
Her pale Byakugan gazed upon the projection cast even into this isolated realm.
Her expression did not change.
She remained as still as a sculpture carved from ice.
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